We'll go to peepshows and freak shows...

Or just sit at home willing the flesh to work.


Following months of what passes as drought in sunny Shitspore, has been a week of cloudy skies and apologetic rain. Really pleasant weather for an extended lie-in (followed by an afternoon nap) with the cat curled up behind my knee...zzzz... The rattling frogs are back, which makes me wonder where they went when the garden was all hot and dry and dying.


So, time spent working on delegation report and presentation to the Minister for Tuesday morning = 0 minutes. Time spent idly going through my e-mail inbox wondering at all the work I've done and still have to do = 45 minutes. Time spent planning my next Shu Uemura haul (double points cos it's my birthday month!) and the possibility of a duty-free one = 4 hours (can somebody just tell me what blush to buy?).


Then of course there's the rediscovery of CABLE. Mmmm... cable... The only thing I love more than cable is YouTube. It would have been nice to have grown up in the YouTube-savvy world.


TWENTY EIGHT. I've never thought about being 28 before. Seriously. When I was a teenager, the oldest I ever imagined myself to be was 27. Not that I believed I would die before turning 28, it's just that it was So Far Away it never occurred to me to let it cross my mind. Yet in exactly 36 hours and 7 minutes, I will have been on this planet for


twenty


eight


years.


I started this blog four and a half years ago. Four years ago I decidedly experienced my first work-related head spasm and six months later I had another problem to deal with. I adopted Bobblehead the Long Cat almost ftr nmgrcthree years ago (he says hi). My foobs are two and a half years old. I've been diving for two years and driving for one and a half. The past year witnessed my transformation into a government machine and six months ago I embraced it as a very likely option for life. Today I decide to let some things slip through the cracks because I just. cannot. do. it. anymore. Yesterday a figure from the past who was previously featured in this blog facebooked me a birthday greeting (to which I replied that he was a few days early).

At the meeting I was at - for which delegation report this post puts on hold - the Chairman had asked: "Where are we now? Where are we going? Do we define ourselves or do we let others define us?"

But how? I want to make pots of money and be in a position of power and find the perfect man with whom I can raise perfect children while skydiving/mountain-climbing/amazon-river-navigating/helicopter-flying/arctic-canoeing in between. At the same time I just want to figure out which goddamn shades of blush would most suit my skintone, to watch "Fishzilla" on NatGeo and the Philip Defranco show on YouTube, to hang out with my psychotic cat while being lulled to sleep by the rattling frogs.

Seriously man, those frogs. That is some soothing shit.


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